


The Beast Master

by MKnightium



Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Graphic Violence, Seregios, hero - Freeform, implied sex, mature content, monster hunter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8113921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MKnightium/pseuds/MKnightium
Summary: In a world where beasts of violent nature constantly threaten humanity, the Hunter's Guild has organized to hunt these massive beasts and slay them; using them for parts and the like. After enough time however, a Hunter did bring up the idea that no one ever considered out of it being both foolish, but borderline senile.Why destroy these naturally occurring Monsters, when they could be tamed?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction; character likeness to people in real life is merely a coincidence and should be treated as such. This story is marked as mature due to depictions of blood and gore, disturbing content, and even implied sex between people. 
> 
> Please enjoy.

His boots crunched the dirt with each step, trying to keep his footing as best he could while walking along the raised path. The sun bore down on his back, but he ignored it; the air was too chilled and cold anyhow to really feel the heat. He wore a full set of Ioprey Gunner armor; the majority of his face covered as the orange and silver armor protected him from the elements, yet at the same time allow him enough weight to be mobile and quick. A Khezu Syringe Light Bowgun rested on his back, his go to weapon for when Wyverns attack. He was here for a purpose; a reason far beyond hunting a creature like a Seltas, or god forbid a Zinogre.

He was hunting a fellow Hunter, much like himself.

He could remember the Urgent Quest he was given; that every Hunter who had ever visited Val Habar’s Gathering Hall was given, actually.

Hunt down Repaia, the crazed Beast Master. The Gunner could remember the stories they told about Repaia; he was the first Hunter to ever form a bond with a Wyvern: a Seregios even more impressive. The Guild considered him insane, and many mocked him for that.

As far as the Gunner recalled, that was when he said he would demonstrate the control he had over the Wyverns in his command, and what they could do.

…no one believed him, until Jaggi started getting more organized in their raids for meat and often Hunters, Velociprey attacked Hunters in blitz maneuvers that prevented any form of real counterattack, and various other Wyverns adapted and attacked in ways that _directly_ made them able to counter even a trained Hunter team.

And no one wanted to get started on the Rathalos; the beast to suddenly know _where_ to strike, _when_ to strike, and especially _how hard_.

After enough time it came time that Repaia had to be brought down, or he could destroy everything humanity held near and dear.

Thus, we come to the Gunner; standing at the end of the path, to what looked like an abandoned village; in Heaven’s Mount. This was where Repaia was supposed to be located…inside that village. The Gunner pulled the Bowgun off his back and started walking; loading in some Pellet Shots just in case something popped out at him and tried to kill him. Walking through the town, the Gunner was able to see and realize this place had to have been desolate and isolate for at least a decade…no bodies, nor bones.

But he did see a few Jaggi, that scattered the second the Gunner aimed his firearm at them. He continued his trek through the ghost town…until he came across a cavern; untouched by time and ancient from the stalagmites in it. He continued to walk, descending into the cave; deep breathing finally ringing in his ears…like a large creature was resting.

He was nowhere near alone, and that made him unload the Pellets, and slid in a few Crag Shots…

The end of the cave came to him, and he went still when he saw what was making those huffs; a Seregios.

The winged beast had deep yellow scales with green flecks at the tip of each of them, and that iconic horn on its nose; scales all lowered as an indication that the beast was asleep. Its torso rose and fell, tailed curled up; the Flying Wyvern giving a twitch every so often; the beast’s zygodactyl claws curling and uncurling.

In all its entirety, even while asleep, the Seregios was a dangerous, terrifying foe…and the Gunner was left alone with the beast. He snapped out of his fear induced stupor and refocused; lifting the gun and aiming at the creature’s head. A good Crag Shot to the Seregios’ head could be enough to blow the Wyvern’s head clean off, or at the very least get a good start on trying to kill it. His finger rested on the trigger, and the Gunner prepared to fire.

An emerald eye greeted him, followed by a sharp exhale of flame nearly scalding him.

The bellowing roar made him collapse on his back, gun on the ground, as he scrambled to get it only for a claw to clamp down on the weapon, crushing it into splinters and useless parts. This was it, this was how he was to die…at the hands of a Seregios out in the middle of nowhere, with no help coming for miles.

The Gunner grit his teeth and closed his eyes, hoping and praying his demise wouldn’t be as gruesome as the beasts were known for.

“Varrick, stop.” An aged, weathered voice called out from the light of the cavern’s entrance, and astonishingly the Wyvern complied; lowering down its wings and backing away, giving the Gunner the chance to dart his head over to the one who had somehow saved his life.

The one who stood there was taller than him by a good head, with broad shoulders and a muscled look. He wore armor fashioned from a Hermitaur no doubt, but blackened and weathered from years of use without upkeep or repair, with red lines along it, covering his entire body and giving not an inch of what he looked without it. On his back rested a sheathed Charge Blade…fashioned from a Rathian’s scales and parts, as well as a Cross Bowgun; simple yet dangerous.

It took the young man a good while to realize he was staring at Repaia, the crazed Beast Master.

“Why are you here, boy?” The man asked in that same tone. It wasn’t menacing or dangerous, but more of…tired; like someone who had been working or Hunting for a long time. “Speak, don’ wanna give Varrick over there an excuse to snap you up.”

“I-I came here to…Hunt you down.” The Gunner half expected to be struck down, but instead Repaia just sighed, shaking his head.

“It took them nearly twenty years to finally get the gall to put something out on me for my efforts…really I feel offended it took so long,” A weak laugh escaped him, followed by rough coughing from him; the man walking past the Gunner and shaking his head.

“What’s your name, boy? I at least wanna know that from the Hunter who came all the way out to Heaven's Mount to find me.”

“Ivan…but…you don’t seem as the stories say.”

“You mean the stories made up by Hunters who came after me and nearly died? That’s why they made the tales of me being tyrannical, monstrous, and nearly inhuman.”

“But…you did fight them right? Are any of those legends and stories true?”

“Varrick and I fought them, but it was really me just telling the big ol’ Seregios where to fly and who to strike. As for the rest...I _did_ tame a Seltas and a Najarala, but through hard means.” That was insane; this man really could bend the will of a Wyvern to turn on his own kind! “But, I can tell you’re just wanting to get this over with, so go ahead and try; there should be a Sword and Shield outside left behind when a Hunter tried to come here alone.” Repaia started walking…and Ivan stopped him with a shout.

“Not like this.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m not doing it like this. You’re not some feared great destroyer of the world who can rally monsters against humans…you’re…you’re…”

“ _Old._ I’ve been doing this a long, long time. And I’m tired, of people never truly understanding the truth. These beasts are a part of nature; being here long before us. Some cannot be tamed nor domesticated yes, but many can.” A shrill whistle left him, and Ivan jerked around when several dozen Jaggi ran past him, yipping and cawing at Repaia; much like how dogs would for their master when they hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“These Jaggi are a good example; normally savage and annoying to Hunters. I tamed and domesticated these one; they’ll sniff out and track large prey and guide me to them, like faithful hounds.”

“Jaggi are one thing but a Seregios? Those things are iconic for razor-edge scales being fired at hunters and nearly killing them instantly. How the hell did you manage to tame one, let alone all the other beasts and Wyverns Hunters have seen you using to fight others?”

“Hah! Now that, my dear boy, is a long tale. Do you remember the legend of the Gore Magala, and the horrific Frenzy Virus the beast expelled…t'was during those dreaded times that I was much like you, until things changed…and I found Varrick.” Repaia sat down on an old chair, the Seregios right behind him, head lifted as it watched Ivan. “Twenty years ago, was when I wasn’t the infamous Beast Master who uses Wyverns and the like to desecrate humanity’s fortifications, nor was I the madman to talk with and befriend a Najarala, and I was nowhere near the maniac to use a pack of Velociprey to hunt and take down a Kecha Wacha…I was just a young man named Marcus Finch…who made the grievous mistake to be in the Everwood at the right time and the right place; to meet the greatest friend of my life.”

To Be Continued…  


	2. The Everwood

He vaulted over a branch, landing and dusting himself off. His steps were slow and calm; the Hunter clearly in no rush in his Expedition. His armor was made from the parts his friends had helped him gather; white pants made from that of a Khezu, with tassels of a Narajala around his waist. Tetsucabra mail clung to his chest, and one of his arms bore a Velociprey gauntlet, whereas the other was bare, with only a blue fingerless glove. The Alloy Helmet he wore covered his entire head; only revealing hints of his brown skin. He was young, not the youngest Hunter to ever be inducted into the Hunter’s Guild, but seventeen was a fairly young age to join the guild and do well with experienced teams. 

He’d been out in the Everwood since the early morning, before even the sun came up, trying to find some new resources and new materials for his gear and equipment.

The young man was only a few moments away from getting some new equipment that he could go get polished and spiced up so he could use it. 

“Meow! The Nyanght is here to help you, sir!” 

…and perhaps maybe get rid of that fucking Palico. 

He didn’t enjoy his at all; the little green furball was loud, annoying, and more times than he could count did the little shit actually wreck a perfectly good trap with explosives. 

If anything, the only reason why the Feyline wasn’t fired or dismissed yet was because he went into a crying fit each and every time the thought was brought up. Why fate thought to pair him with a waste of time like him, he’d never know. 

“Vert, shut it.” The man sharply said, without any form of remorse, kneeling down to motion ahead to something; a Great Jaggi, seeming to be hunting with a few smaller Jaggis.   
“For once in your life listen; I need you to lay some Large Barrel Bombs down right here,” He tapped the grass with his finger, emphasizing where this time. “And when I get the creature’s attention and draw him here, you detonate the bombs and we do enough damage to send the lizard running.”

“That sounds like a purrfect plan!”

The cat puns were what really made him consider shooting the little shit and just saying he went missing. But, at least for once he had the plan. The Hunter loaded in the Normal Shots, ensuring they were the Level II ones for more damage, and crouched down, pressing the scope to his eyehole to take aim. He could see the Great Jaggi’s head in the crosshairs, and his finger squeezed the trigger; about to silence the beast.  
And then the Palico ran out screaming, swinging his little lance and of course drawing the Great Jaggi’s attention, to the point the beast moved out of the man’s crosshairs and made him miss.

“God FUCKING damn it you stupid little shit!!” He was beyond livid, standing and loading in the Pellet Shots, knowing he’d have to rush out and save the Palico from being torn apart. Breaking through the bush he ran directly at the Great Jaggi, firing as rapidly as he could the entire time, wounding the beast and shooting as much as he could. His teeth clenched behind his helmet, watching the Great Jaggi roar in pain, focusing its glare on him as he kept shooting. He could see the other Jaggi ganging up on Vert over there…he decided to call it irony and avoid from helping him; working to load in some Sleep Shots and take aim at the Great Jaggi. Since the fucking trap had been blown the best idea was to neutralize the beast and leave; now that everything’s been compromised it’d only go south.   
People constantly forgot a Great Jaggi can still put down some Hunters. 

The beast lunged, and right before it could hit him, the final shot was fired; the Great Jaggi swaying before collapsing on the ground, snoring silently. With their alpha down the other Jaggi dispersed and ran off, leaving the Hunter, his retarded Palico, and the downed Great Jaggi. 

“Meow! Nice work boss-“

“You try some shit like that again, I let him eat you.” He warned, moving to rest the gun on his back and start walking, huffing and breathing from the tension; heart hammering in his chest. 

“Nya, I know you’re just jokin’ with me! So do ya want me to set the bombs?”

“Vert, don’t!”

The bombs went off seconds later, and the Great Jaggi had gone from neutral, to livid…

 

 

He nursed the injuries and wounds he sported now; the cuts weren’t too severe all things considered. Downing a Potion, the young hunter returned to the Hunter’s Gathering Hall and approached the Guild Marm there, setting down the paper with the bounty for a Great Jaggi captured.

“Hmm?” She closed her book and looked up. “I didn’t even order for this-“

“Well free of charge.” He said with a tired breath. “Palico and I just so happened to get one when the little furball screwed up and set off a trap.” She slowly began to get it, nodding and looking around.

“Wwweeeelll…I’ll just give you the Zenny for it and…let’s look the other way.”

“Thank you.” She stamped the paper and he moved to plop down at the table, taking up a tankard and tilting a bottle of ale into it; tugging his helmet off and downing a good portion of it. 

It was no secret this happened often; Hunt goes south, and he drowns that problem in plenty of ale until he couldn’t stand anymore…thankfully he was allowed to drink ale though he was only eighteen. 

“Hey Marcus, another botched Hunt?” He glanced up from his drinking to a Hunter there, the man clad entirely in the legendary Zinogre armor, with a menacing Chicken Decapitator Greatsword resting on his back; the product of hunting a Yian Kut-Ku and slaying the bird. The one who spoke had a gruff, bass voice; he was obviously very old and a seasoned Hunter. “Cause ya look like shit. What gotcha?” 

“Palico fucked up an alerted a Great Jaggi to me; last time it was a Tetsucabra, Jeremy.” The big man just sighed, sitting down at once of the benches and getting his own tankard. 

“I was in the Everwood looking for some more Huskberries and even a few Bone Husks so I could make some new ammo types. But…the little shit ruined it.”

“I dun’ see why ya can’t jus’ get ridda the little fucka.” Another Hunter sat down, this one clad entirely in Rhenopolos armor, with a Devil’s Gunlance resting on his back. “Dis’ be the twelve time that cat’s gott’n yer ass kicked. Dismiss ‘im and be done wit it.”

“Not that easy Hector; I try and he starts crying like a little bitch, and every time that happens everyone just turns to me like I’m the asshole for doing something like that. It’s pissing me off.”

“Try getting rid of him somewhere else then,” Another Hunter showed up, this one a woman and clad in the Nagracuga armor, with a set of V-Prey Claws at her side, with a slight dismissive look to her. “Preferably a place where he can’t play the victim card. He’s just sticking with you because you’re probably the only Hunter who never told him to actually fuck off before he could even work with them.” 

“Augh…fair enough Seya…I’ll have to see what I can do. Sick and tired of nearly dying because he wants to either throw a bomb wrong, draw a beast’s attention away from a well-placed trap, or overall fuck my day up. It’s like he just wakes up every morning and decides to be as cancerous as possible.”

“Every Palico’s like that, Marcus…you just need to get the one that’s gonna be cancer for the Wyverns and not you.” Jeremy tugged his Zinogre helmet off to down some of his drink, yawning. “Speaking of which we got a hunt set up for next week; we’re going after a Rathalos spotted out near the edge of the Everwood. Guild listed this one as Urgent so we get use of an airship too.” That made Marcus look up, wiping his face with his arm. Only for severe cases were they allowed to use an airship, let alone for a Rathalos. 

“What’s one Rathalos doing for the Guild if it needs an Urgent Quest?”

“Dey say it’s tryin’ ta mate wit’ a Rathian there; gotta nest dere and everythin’. Guild wan’s it gone ‘fore those babies get big.” Fair enough; the Everwood was where many Hunters went to gather materials and supplies; with a Rathalos and a Rathian flying about it’d be next to impossible to really get anything done there without risking death.

“And you guys need me on this Hunt with you three?”

“We need a Gunner…you’re thankfully one of the best we’ve seen.” Seya inspected her blades, smirking a bit. “Besides it’s you or that one Hunter who insists on using a Bow…Kurt was his name.”

“That guy who got beat up by a few Kelbi? Not even sure how he’s an option.” 

Marcus did feel better now; something to look forward to in the close future to take his mind off the whole situation in the Everwood earlier. But, that did mean he’d have to head back there to gather some more supplies; thanks to the little shit Palico he didn’t have enough Zenny to afford a few Harvest Tours.

And even then, he’d somehow find a way to screw that up as well.

 

 

 

“Dad, I’m back.” Marcus set his Cross Bowgun down, breathing a sigh of relief. It took at least four hours but he was back home in Mezaporta, his hometown. His house was rather lackluster; just one story with at least three bedrooms, a living room, and a dining room…thankfully they had running water since their home wasn’t mobile. He could already hear his father busy cooking, and soon the big man himself stepped out, dwarfing Marcus in size.

His father was old yes, but still well-muscled. He was a whole head taller than the Gunner, and his head was shaved bald entirely. He wore a brown tunic with black pants, and work boots; evident that his father never Hunted, just worked around towns to build things. His face lit up with relief and joy at his son’s safe return…but that rapidly shifted to concern when he saw the scratches on him.

“Marcus,” He began, obviously worried, sitting down at the table in the dining room…not a far distance from the door. “What happened? Weren’t you going to the Everwood like you said son?”

“I did…problem is a Great Jaggi showed up and the little Palico wanted to ruin everything and nearly get me killed. I swear every time I think something’ll go good it’s always him that butchers it—“

“Son, what did we talk about? Blaming others doesn’t do any good. Was this your fault, no. But that Palico’s obviously not right in the head and keeps trying to mooch off you…” His dad did glance around, bemused. “Speaking of which, where is Vert?”

“I ditched him at the port in Val Habar. Odds are he’ll just find his way back here and I’ll have to deal with him again…as always.” 

“Heh…at least you’re being proactive.” The young man was about to go get his gear taken off so he could go bathe and rest, but a rough hand clamped down on his shoulder. 

“Son, got something for you.” Marcus’ father left briefly, and returned later with something…a weapon.  
It was a Charge Blade no doubt, but the gold color and indicate designs told him it was fashioned from a Rathian; the Queen of the Sky. 

“…dad…whose is this?” He asked, concerned already. The big man sat back down, folding his hands, as a sigh left him. 

“…your mother’s. She told me a long time ago when you turned eighteen she wanted you to have this. It’s a shame she’s no longer here.”

“Yeah…it’s a shame.” Really Marcus never knew his mother all that well; she died when he was a baby and that was all he could remember. “Dad can I ask you something? Were you…I dunno…scared when I became a Hunter?”

“At first yes, but seeing as how you keep getting stronger and keep coming home every day I’m assured you’ll be fine,” His father leaned back, running a hand along his chin. 

“Marcus, you’re a strong Hunter; about as strong as me when I used to Hunt. You never once gave up or gave in when things got tough, and I know when they get even tougher you’ll never give in either. There’s plenty of Monsters out there…and I know one day my son’ll come home and tell me he saw them all, and fought them all.” Marcus didn’t even notice he was tearing up from his dad’s words, but he wiped them away with his thumb, and nodded.

“Alright dad…I’ll keep coming home after Hunts, and I’ll never fail those missions, no matter what-“

“Meow! Someone lemme in, I’m starving!”

And that night Marcus had to actually restrain himself from bludgeoning that cat’s head in with the Charge Blade he was given, ironically. 

 

 

 

“Alright, this looks good.” Using some Zenny he saved up from a few jobs, Marcus was able to actually get some better armor commissioned and made to suit his new style of using the Charge Blade. His torso was clad in the vivid red Hermitaur armor, with Velociprey pants and curled metal boots resting on his lower body. His gauntlets were fashioned from a Khezu, and lastly his helmet was molded from that of a Gypceros. The Gunner turned Blademaster stood in his room was he looked over his new gear, and soon got to work on something else, tying some leather straps together while the Palico Vert watched him.

“Watcha workin’ on boss? A fancy fish rack for me?”

“Hell no; I’m making a harness so I can carry my Cross Bowgun with me alongside my Charge Blade.”

“What? But you’re a Blademaster! It’s one weapon only-“

“Nowhere in the Academy nor the rulebook did it say a Hunter must only use one weapon. Besides, there are situations where my Charge Blade won’t work, and vice versa.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Well Vert I fucking hate when you run out and alert the Monsters but apparently that’s not going away now is it?”

“Ha! A true Ace Palico always runs head first into the fight!” Ignoring him, Marcus finished up and slipped the harness on, working to place the Cross Bowgun on his back, slung over the Charge Blade. He tested his movement out a bit and while it felt a tad heavy, it could still work out so long as he tried to maintain a good speed before really running. 

“Dad I’m gonna go to the Everwood for a bit; need to get some materials for a Hunt coming up!” Marcus shouted, already hearing his father’s voice of approval before he started walking. He knew Vert would tag along despite his annoyances…but Marcus felt it’d be best to just ignore him and hope he could run this expedition well.

Shot in the dark, maybe Vert would get eaten by a Seltas.

 

 

 

“Vert for the love of god shut the fuck up.” Marcus had to finally silence the Palico with that. They’d been out in the expedition for a good hour now and in said trip the Palico wanted to use the time to prattle and ramble on about the time he supposedly fought a Rathalos single handed.   
Bullshit.

Marcus was about to tell Vert to shut up again, but a booming roar in the close distance made him go silent, and concerned; crouching down and ducking behind a tree. Ahead was a short clearing, where some Slagoth were roaming…and one of the Slagoth was overturned, and dead.

Something was picking at it…something big and winged. It was obviously a Rathalos feeding himself, though this one wasn’t the typical crimson color; it was more of a cool silvery hue. 

A Silver Rathalos…Marcus’ desire to find materials faded, and now he was concerned for his life. A Great Jaggi could be outran if one tried, but a Rathalos? The damn Flying Wyvern would follow him all the way home if it spotted him.

“Vert for once in your fucking little life I need you to listen,” Marcus dropped all hostility and hatred, this time he was deadly serious and concerned. “That’s a Rathalos; we cannot engage that thing alone. He’ll kill us both and typically, a Rathalos likes to have a Rathian somewhere with him so that’s defiantly a fight we can’t afford to go in. So we’re gonna turn around, and walk-you FUCKING MORON.” Marcus was just assuming Vert was probably deaf, because despite his instructions the cat ran out alone, and rushed right at the Rathalos, while the Hunter rapidly switched to his Cross Bowgun and loaded in the Sleep Shots; these ones the Lvl 2 ones. They were harder to cram into the gun but they worked much better in putting creatures to sleep. Marcus took aim and fired, hearing the Rathalos roar in frustration and fury of his meal being stopped before turning those serpentine eyes to focus on the cat before unleashing a blast of fire at him.

Marcus had been so caught up in trying to get some distance on the Rathalos he never saw the fireball Vert had leapt right out of and neglected to inform him of.

The blast seared his armor; Marcus tumbling backwards and landing near a den entrance. He was hurt, but alive none the less, though his torso armor was gone, fallen to smolders.

Hermitaur armor was weak against fire…he forgot about that. 

“Vert! Fucking run already!” Marcus shouted, loading up another shot and this time discharging some Lightning rounds at the winged reptile, trying to bring it down now or at the very least force a retreat. “That thing’s not going anywhere!”

“This meowster is gonna get a piece of my mind!” The cat ran again, screaming. “Have at you—“

Somewhere an angel had cried of joy; when Vert tried to run at the Rathalos to hit its head with his hammer, a green scaled Rathian had swooped down and grabbed the cat with her talons, tearing into him. Considering Marcus saw blood painting the ground and the mewls of the cat dying down…it was safe to say that Vert was dead, and the Wyverns had their eyes focused on him now. 

“…I’d take the time to celebrate if I weren’t dead.” Marcus muttered, and only had time to load his Bowgun before the Rathian’s tail swipe sent him tumbling down the small cavernous den entrance and causing him to land roughly on the rocky ground, the impact being enough to knock him out. 

 

 

 

 

His head hurted, as did the rest of his body, but Marcus knew he was okay.

Pain meant he was still alive. He rolled to a sitting condition, feeling his chest and huffing. Much of his armor was destroyed from that fight; he was missing his chest armor and helmet, and the only things intact really were his left gauntlet, and his pants, along with his Charge Blade. 

His mother’s gift was truly something powerful. He stepped over to pick it up, supporting the shield with his arm as he tried to find his way around the cave. There was no telling how long he’d been down there, but clearly it was a while; the air felt cold. He started walking, glancing around slowly as he did…this place was below the Everwood? In all the times he came to gather here the thought of a large cave system never occurred to him.

Subterranean Monsters weren’t entirely native to this area. 

But something occurred to him…he wasn’t alone down there. He could see light permeating from the ceiling, to a little clearing ahead. And something was resting in that clearing. It was large and yellow, with green flakes on its scales, and a horn on its head. Marcus knew what it was…and now presumed devils were singing now.

That was a Seregios. 

From what he could see though the creature wasn’t as old as the ones depicted in the books; was about as big as a Slagoth compared to their typical titanic size. He also smelt…crimson in the air; blood. It wasn’t his; his wounds were either scabbed over by now, or nothing that could draw scent. He took a few more steps, and saw the Seregios was actually the injured one. There looked to be some sort of major lacerations along its arms and its wings were crippled, even its horn broken and tail damaged. Whatever attacked this Seregios wasted no time, and spared no expense at trying to kill it. 

Marcus pulled the Charge Blade up, hiding behind the shield as he held the sword to his side; approaching slowly. There was no way this wyvern would let him live…he had to strike first. He took another step forward, and expected to hear the Seregios roar before shooting spikes at him; like he expected. 

The fact that nothing like that happened made Marcus even more frightened. He lowered the shield a tad, and was able to see why. The Flying Wyvern was just sitting there, huffing and breathing, wings lowered and plating not even rippling.

The reptile literally lacked the strength to fight him, and those serpentine eyes betrayed the fear the creature had. Marcus always read about the Seregios to know they were supposed to be unstoppable monsters of the sky; only beatable by a Rathalos. But this one was scared of him. 

His sword clattered to the floor, and his shield rested. The Seregios retained its frightened look, but Marcus knew the beast wouldn’t attempt to kill him, at least not right now. He had to shift priorities; there had to be a way out the cave…though he didn’t see one at all. Swearing under his breath, Marcus turned around and started walking back to where he first awakened at. 

Among the scattered remains of his armor was the Cross Bowgun; thankfully not too banged up. It could work for what he needed. The young hunter started walking, having to pass by the Seregios to find something thankfully, a small inlet of water with fish in it. Another trek back and he returned with his fishing rod; plunging the red colored rod into the water and yanking back as hard as he could when a Glutton Tuna bit down. 

“Not in the mood for some random items…” He muttered, setting the fish down to his right and fishing for another; amassing enough for a substantial meal of at least four fish. He dragged them back to the lit clearing where he found the wounded Wyvern; setting up his BBQ Pit and skewering the fish on it; lighting the flame and rotating it slowly. Marcus cooked the fish to at least a decent bronze hue before pulling it off, tearing a piece of its flesh off and eating.

…tasted horrific, but it was edible at the very least. He finished eating the tuna and after recovering a Thunderbug he cooked the other one up, eating and recovering an Iron Ore from it. This went on until he was on the fourth one…and a pang hit him. 

Marcus turned on the little stool to the Seregios. It was leaning on its side, breathing low, as he could tell the wounds it sported were bothering it profusely. He looked down to the cooked fish, and a sigh left him. He reached to his boot and withdrew his gathering knife; plunging it into the tuna’s stomach to cut the Blue Mushroom out before approaching the Seregios; watching those amber eyes dart up to look at him. He was risking a lot but Marcus knelt down and held the fish out, careful to keep it perked on his finger so at the very least he would just lose that if he screwed up.

“Your wounds aren’t going away on an empty stomach; eat.” He offered the food again, and after a brief delay the Wyvern’s maw clamped down on the Glutton Tuna’s head, gulping it down before the beast turned over onto its stomach, trying to support itself with its wounded arms. “And cut that out; you got those torn up badly so rest.” He stood up and felt his mind working already…the Seregios needed some sort of medical treatment. He moved back to the impact site and found his bag; rummaging through for something. 

All he was able to find was a Herb clump; he didn’t manage to recover anything from the site the cart dropped him off at so he didn’t have any healing for himself.

He ignored that; he had to do something. The Hunter took the entire bag and started walking; tossing it down and grabbing the Blue Mushroom as he did as well as an empty bottle from the bag. He ventured to the water to dip it in; collecting a good portion of the water before crushing the mushroom and herb up to add them in and shaking it up; creating a Potion. It wasn’t big, but enough to treat some of the issues, stepping back to the Seregios and watching the reptile hiss warningly. 

“You’re not gonna like this but hold still…and don’t kill me.” For insurance the Charge Blade’s shield was in his arm before he applied the potion to the major wound on the Seregios’ side.

The damn thing still had enough energy to whack him with its tail; the force knocking him down. Had his shield not been raised he’d be the one using the potion. 

“Fuckin’ shit…got some strength still.” He managed to stand back up and grab the Potion; thankfully it was intact. Applying it to the other wounds yielded the same results, and eventually Marcus did get injured; sporting a cut on his forearm in the end from one of those sharpened scales catching him when the beast moved. But, he didn’t mind it; the even harder part was bandaging the creature’s wounds with the items he brought; using tatters from his old gear to do so.   
In the end the Seregios’ stomach, a bit of wings, and tail were all bandaged and secure.

“Leave them on for a few weeks and you’ll be good as new…” He was tired…fatigue clawed at him. He started moving, taking the shield with him as he moved further down the cave to where he caught the fish; resting at the wall opposite to the water. He was too tired to find the way out of the cavernous system…the best idea for the time was to stop and try to get his strength up so he could work at it tomorrow. There had to be a means to escape somewhere in here…his father wouldn’t worry that he was gone for a day.

No one knew he was out here…that was both harrowing and at the same time a relief. If something like this got to his father’s ear he’d be beyond skeptical and even against Marcus hunting ever again, considering he nearly died and encountered the possible Rathalos and Rathian pair nesting in the area.

Then again, the fact that a mere Rank 1 Hunter tangled with the King and Queen of the sky with just a Light Bowgun and lived has to stand for something…he could at least bear that in mind. 

He propped the shield up next to him…the relic that saved his life on multiple accounts. 

He never knew his mother properly…but with this weapon he felt like she was at his side, and always there to protect him. 

Marcus rested his back against the wall, closed his eyes…and at last fell into a blissful sleep.

…he may have been trapped in a cavern with a Seregios…but…Vert was dead. So hey, silver lining. 

To Be Continued…


	3. Unlikely Friendship

He yawned, eyes opening. He was still in the cave…that meant the Seregios chose not to kill him in the middle of the night. He did hear rustling, and felt something furry poking at him. Marcus rolled over, and came face to face with a Meylinx. There were at least seven of the little thieves, all holding various items and such.

The problem was _all_ of those were his.

“Hey!” The second they knew he was awake they all bolted, the Hunter getting to his feet and pursuing them, managing to grab his shield and hurl it at one; hearing the pleasing crunch of the shield crushing its head; the man kneeling to recover his sword. The remaining ones ran out into the clearing…and they didn’t last long.

Apparently the Seregios was awake still, the yellow and green scale flying out to crush one’s head being a good indication of the fact it was nettled as well. The creature let out a bellowing roar, serrated plated scales flying out to impale many of the cats in bloody, gory messes; the cats nothing but splats against the wall from the force of the scales ripping through their tiny bodies…Marcus picked one of the cats up by the scruff of its neck and lifted it, clearly not happy they tried to mug him in his sleep.

“How’d you all get down here?” He asked, knowing the Meylinx got down to the caves somehow. “Is there a way out?”

“N-No! We dug down here! We smelt treasures, we wanted treasures!”

“Hmm, okay I believe it.” He brought the cat down and stomped on its head. He also believed the little shit didn’t need to live. He turned to see the Seregios moving, engrossed in eating one of the dead Meylinx…so the beast killed them really for food, not much else.

“We helped one another out, so there’s a plus.” He muttered; approaching the Flying Wyvern and approaching slowly, trying not to disturb the creature.

Its head perked up suddenly, blood dripping from its maw, as the creature looked up at him. Marcus was a bit skeptical, but the look the Seregios had now wasn’t one of malice or fury like they normally have, or even the fearful one it had earlier.

This one was more of curiosity; Marcus kneeling down and holding his hand out, fingers soon coming into contact with the Seregios' horn. It felt...sharp; it was like a big knife was on the beast's head. His hand continued to explore, the Seregios not flinching whatsoever as he felt the sharp scales, keeping careful to avoid from cutting himself on the serrated, swiveling scales on the Seregios' head. But, above all else, the major thing was Marcus was touching a Seregios; the Wyvern dozens feared, yet the reptile acted more like a submissive canine.

“I guess you’re in brighter spirits, feeling better?” He wasn’t really sure why he was talking to the creature; there was no telling if the Seregios could understand him or not. At this point it was more for his closure than the creature’s. “But maybe I should name you; no telling how long we’ll be down here. Callin' you something will keep one of us sane.” He tried to think on a decent name for the beast, one that wasn’t gender specific but at the same time still sounded imposing and inspiring.

Only one name kept coming to mind for the young Hunter; the name of his supposed grandfather, who was said to have fought an Elder Dragon with nothing but a Sword and Shield.

“Varrick,” Marcus spoke, watching the Seregios look up at him. “I’ll call you Varrick…that works good for you.” He stood up and looked around…still no sign of an exit. But, the Meylinx he interrogated gave a good insight on things. Those cats never dig too far down so as to prevent from being hassled and attacked by underground Monsters. So that meant the surface wasn’t that far up. Hell Varrick could bust right through it…if he could fly.

Though from what Marcus saw the creature’s wounds were healing. The makeshift bandages were darkened with crimson, indicating the creature had still been bleeding but at least now he was capable of moving around without being pained from what Marcus saw.

“C’mon Varrick, let’s go get breakfast.” He was slightly wondering why he was being so…comfortable around a creature capable of killing him the mere second it wanted to. Surprisingly through, Varrick was calm the entire time. He mostly seemed…dismissive and passive for the time. Marcus knew the best place to get some quick food was from the fishing spots; the man tossing his cork in and sitting down on the little cooking stool; keeping the Portable Spit next to him. He yanked back and pulled a Sushifish up; stabbing it through the spit and letting it hang while he fished for another one. He managed to gather a sizable amount of fish before lighting the pit and letting the fish cook, though he did toss a raw Glutton Tuna to Varrick; with the Thunderbug inside cut out. This process continued onwards for a good while; with Marcus feeding Varrick raw fish while eating the cooked ones for himself. He needed to build some strength up before trying to find somewhere they could get out…

…they…

…why was there a they? Marcus looked over to Varrick, watching the Seregios munch on another empty Glutton Tuna. He felt comfortable around this creature now…was he a friend at this point? It made no sense but he was behaving almost like a hound who had been given food and love by someone; affectionate and kind.

…maybe the things they really knew about Monsters were wrong. For his entire life he was told Seregios, among other Flying Wyverns, would slay and kill him if given the chance…yet here he was actually considered a friend to one; perhaps in payment for saying its life it wanted to befriend him.

That fact alone made him realize there was so much about these creatures he didn’t know, and the things he did know were quite possibly wrong.

A noise caught his attention; Marcus looking up to see a Kelbi wandering. The deer was munching from some greens growing in a softer spot of rock…and Marcus could already see Varrick lifting, teeth bore.

“No, don’t.” Astonishingly, the creature responded; lowering back down. “…it got down here somehow…maybe it knows the way out.” He stood up and clapped his hands; the Kelbi’s head shooting up and in a flash the deer was running. Marcus broke into a mad sprint to keep up with it, hearing Varrick following him at a slight sluggish pace. They ran for a good few minutes before Marcus could see the piercing light ahead; and in a flash his boots touched down on soft grass. The place they were at now was some sort of clearing; a river ran along the ground with dozens of other Kelbi munching and eating at the grass, while a few holes remained along the ground. Rocky walls stretched up to conceal the place, with a bit of a crack in one of the walls, where someone could probably squeeze through and leave.

It was the perfect place to keep Varrick while the creature fully healed.

“Varrick, wait here.” He commanded the Seregios before running back into the cavern; doing his best not to lose track of the exit. He gathered his various items and such before returning…though several trips were needed to do so. In moments he had his Charge Blade set down against the wall, and the Cross Bowgun primed and ready to go. The Hunter loaded in a few Normal Shots and took aim; pelting the Kelbi as quickly as he could to kill many of them; though a few ran away and clambered up the rock to escape from.

“And there’s dinner.”

 

* * *

 

 

Cooking the Kelbi wasn’t hard, though some remained raw when fed to Varrick. Marcus sat on the stool from the Portable Spit, watching the Seregios gorge himself on some Kelbi meat. The creature still had some healing to do; wing membranes being torn and all, but now he healed significantly; the bandages from around his body and tail were removed. Marcus didn’t know how long it’d take for the wings to recover, but considering how much the Seregios was eating, it probably wouldn’t take very long. He reached for his back and withdrew a green covered journal, pulling a pen out as well to start writing, scribbling down a few things.

_Varrick, the Seregios I found and healed, seems to actually be really friendly towards me; like a hound after being healed by someone. I’m not sure what this means in the long run but it does make me question the teachings I was given as a kid. Are all Wyverns dangerous threats that’d eagerly wipe out humanity, or are they just beasts that can be befriended? Some would argue no, like the Wycademy, but Varrick is a firm example of that being false…or perhaps he’s just an exception to this rule. Either way I do wonder what’ll happen if and when I get out of here? Without a map detailing the Everwood properly I don’t actually know where I am per say, or where the cart is to take to go back to Val Habar. So for the most part I’m stuck here until I can find…something. But, at least now a base camp has been established where I can rest, have access to fresh water daily, and even use the local herbivores as a means to sustain myself and Varrick, along with some flora to feed on when meat becomes too hard to feed on. Hopefully I find my way back home soon…I know my dad; by now he’ll go from worried to panicking._

The book was closed, and Marcus sighed in relief; looking over to Varrick and seeing the beast looking around, sniffing. Maybe an interesting scent caught his nose. He didn’t think much of it; he had to start looking for that cart, or maybe even another hunter.

…actually sans that Hunter idea…no idea how Varrick would react.

 

* * *

 

 

The Slagoth fell dead; Marcus wiping sweat from his brow as he approached the creature. He slid the Cross Bowgun onto his back and slipped his gathering knife out; hacking some Raw Meat from the felled beast. He dropped it into a bag and started moving; returning to the camp and slipping through the wall to get there; landing in the grasp and rolling briefly to break his fall.

“Varrick, I’m home boy.” The Seregios perked up, making a sharp growl noise, not with malice but with some happiness; Marcus walking over and dropping down the chunks of Slagoth meat and jerking back with Varrick rushed over, beginning to eat. He’d been out here _much_ longer than he ever anticipated; an entire week. By now he was sure everyone was blazingly worried, but…not much else he could do. As far as Marcus knew now the cart to get him home had probably left, so he was effectively trapped in the Everwood.

He didn’t mind anymore…he used the tools he had and the friend he had to survive.

“Wings are healin’ up nicely,” Marcus rubbed the Seregios’ wing with his hand, trying to make sure not to cut himself on the beast’s wing again like he did a day or four ago. “Maybe you’ll be ready to fly and go on to your own things.” The beast let out a warble of…what Marcus could infer was approval. In the time trapped he did learn a good amount about Varrick, and Seregios as a whole.

For starters, Varrick was a Preadult Seregios; he wasn’t mature yet. A Rathalos and a Seregios fighting, even with a Rathian fighting as well, would still mean the King of the Skies would emerge with some severe wounds due to the serrated scales the Seregios tended to fire at people and predators in order to cripple them. The one Marcus saw alone was barely even touched; Varrick was nowhere near strong enough to actually fend of the King of the Skies; let alone the King and Queen together.

This opened the doorways to a lot of other ideas; every single Monster must’ve started with the same stages: Juvenile, Subadult, Preadult, and Adult as a whole…maybe Varrick was nicer because as a Preadult he never had to deal with Hunters trying to slay him…meaning maybe _all_ Monsters were docile at this stage and could possibly be trained to stop attacking people. He scribbled and jotted this all down in his notebook; already knowing what to do when he got home.

…or rather if. Still, no time for dark thoughts; once he escaped from the Everwood he needed to go to the Wycademy with something like this. They could maybe even approve of the study and allow him to go forth and do more on this!

A light bellow next to him caught his attention; the Hunter glancing over to Varrick, holding a piece of Slagoth meat in his maw.

“Oh, thanks bud.” He didn’t even care that the meat had been near the Wyvern’s mouth; Marcus picked it up and stuck it unto the spit, whistling and lowering his hand as the sign for Varrick to breathe a plume of fire to ignite the spit. The meat was cooked up and Marcus started to tear into the food; it didn’t taste amazing but by now he learned not to complain or judge.

Some days he didn’t eat at all. Every single time he came back from searching for the cart he typically made sure Varrick ate before he did, and often at times Marcus had to go without eating to make that happen.

The Seregios did what he could to often make sure Marcus ate after those days.

“Well Varrick, day seven. Any idea if we’ll ever get found?” The creature let out a sharp bellow. “I agree.”

…he couldn’t understand him. He just pretended Varrick could talk as a form of closure. Most tended to fall away from sanity when in a dire situation for an extended period of time.

Marcus heard something overhead…and when he glanced up a mix of relief and fear washed over him.

A Guild Airship was moving overhead; someone came looking for him after all. And judging from the distance away from his location; they’d see him as soon as they passed overhead. Marcus was on his feet in seconds, his fingers shooting to his mouth to make a sharp whistle; catching Varrick’s attention.

“You need to get in the cave now!” The beast tilted his head, not understanding. “Varrick you gotta get in the cave now. Hunters are coming; if they see you they’ll try to kill you!” Again, he didn’t move. Either the beast didn’t understand or he just refused to budge from his friend’s side. Marcus had to think fast, or else Varrick could get killed, or worse; Captured.

Captured Monsters often ended up either being taken apart by the Wycademy to study and be dissected, or sent to the Arena to be killed for sport and enjoyment.

He thought fast; pulling out a slab of meat from his bag and holding it up. Immediately the Seregios rose and started walking towards him, Marcus walking into the cave to lead Varrick inside as well. He got the meat as far as he could into the cave system before setting it down, as well as the rest of the meat; breathing a sigh of relief when the Seregios started to eat, not noticing him backing away and moving.

“I’ll be back Varrick…don’t worry…I’ll come back tomorrow, as soon as I can for you boy.” He felt terrible about leaving the Seregios, but there was no other choice. He rushed out as quick as he could, and came out just in time to see the Airship touch down and for Jeremy to step off and land on the grassy ground, shaking his head.

“Holy fucking shit…they said you were dead Marcus.”

“I’m not…how’d you guys find me?”

“We weren’t ‘tirely tryin’ to find ya I admit,” Hector dropped down next with a heavy thud, heaving his lance to his Gunlance up and patting it. “We were aftah that Rathalos…dontha remember the quest?”

“I do…I thought it was already over. Where’s Seya?”

“Right here,” She leapt off the airship and landed as well, shaking the blood off her dual blades. “We found you because in the area we fought the Rathalos I found Vert’s corpse…so I put two and two together and tried to find you.”

“And then we found this,” Jeremy held up a piece of Marcus’ old armor, the Hermitaur armor. “And since it wasn’t bloodied all that bad we knew you were still alive, just around this area.” So after we cleared up the fight we started looking; the smoke from your spit was enough to draw us here.”

Marcus was amazed by that…made so much sense.

“Still, wasn’t the quest set for a day after I left? Why did it not happen until like…today?”

“We had some…complications with the Guild,” Jeremy admitted, rubbing his chin. “They learned the Rathalos flying around was a Silver one, and a Seregios was spotted in the area as well,” Internally, Marcus cringed. “So the Guild wanted us to properly prepare before they wanted us to come after them.”

“At least they care…so everyone thinks I’m dead?”

“Missing in action to be specific,” Seya corrected, arms crossing under her bust, the fishnets covering her torso giving a light jiggle in response. “The Guild doesn’t like flat out listing Hunters as dead…makes it hard to actually get Hunters to keep going as the reality sets in that they can die out there.”

“Fair enough…at least things are alright.”

“Sho’ nuff…hey, whe’s your Palico?”

“…Vert’s dead. The Silver Rathalos managed to kill him before I was knocked into the tunnels. Spent the last few days using my kit to stay alive.”

“Heh, least you’re a smart guy. Anyhow we should head back…Guild’s gonna be amazed to see you’re alive and well.” The group gathered up and the airship took off; Marcus standing at the railing and looking down at the Everwood…where he spent so long with his friend.

Out the corner of his eye, he swore he was imagining it, but he could see Varrick down in the clearing; wing moving as a wave.

…he knew his friend was sad…he’d be back tomorrow to visit him.

And the next day…

And the next day…

And so on.

Marcus knew there was considerable risk in being friends with a Seregios, but in all honesty…there wasn’t anything to lose from befriending this creature…outside of a hand of things went south however.

Varrick was different…and soon Marcus would show them all.  

To Be Continued…


	4. Back To The Fight

“Marcus, are you sure you’re good to go?” His faster asked the Hunter, already dressing himself in more armor and gear for another job. The Charge Blade rested on the wall, not so much as a relic but more like a weapon for later; for now, Marcus returned to his original roots as a Gunner; clad in a mix of armors: wearing the Velociprey Cap, the Tetsucabra vest, the Khezu Leggings, and lastly the Genprey Guards. Marcus slung a Khezu Syringe over his shoulder, ensuring he had enough ammo in his pack to make things work. The young Hunter turned to look at his father’s worried face, resting his hand on the massive man’s shoulder.

“Dad, I’m good; you raised me to be a strong man, right? Well I’m still strong…a week in the Everwood wasn’t that harsh on me.”

“I know but you’re already taking another job? I wouldn’t be worried if it were something minor but…taking on a Yian Kut-Ku with your friends isn’t a safe way to ‘get back into the fight’ as you put it when you got home.”

“I’ll be fine, those birds tend to be very frail and weak…besides I’m going with the team and they’ll keep me out of harm’s way; we’ll be safe dad…I promise.”

“I know but…come back this time, okay?” His father’s worried gaze made much of Marcus’ bravado fade…he never once saw his father this worried before. “I don’t wanna lose you too son.”

“I’ll come home dad…and I’ll make sure I bring back some good money from the hunt.”

Though deep down, Marcus had a feeling something was already about to go south…he was worried already.

 

* * *

 

 

“So…a mating pair of Yian Kut-Kus?” Jeremy asked, the four Hunters stepping off the Airship, the team leader wanting to get a proper feel for the mission and understand it better; the hunting grounds being the Primal Forest…a place many Hunters dreaded due to the dangerous Wyverns that tended to roost there and the toxic swamps the Congalas tended to bathe in to keep themselves unapproachable by other, more dangerous creatures. “What’s the difference between a male and female anyhow?”

“Females are the red ones, males are blue. Males are more aggressive and dangerous, females tend to be the easily killed ones.” Seya flicked her blades, humming to herself as she walked. “I advise we kill the male first, else the death of the female will just incite wrath from him…and then he’ll become dangerous.”

“Sho’ can do; migh’ ev’n find some good ol’ loot out ‘ere.” Hector already laughed to himself, pulling his lance from his back and moving forward, being the first to spot the creature. The female Yian Kut-Ku was doing what the bird was known for; swallowing Konchus whole and eating them that way, only noticing the Hunters a moment too late when Jeremy had swung, leaving a huge scar in its side. The creature let out a screech, eyes focused on the heavily armored hunter before fire shot from her maw; Hector jumping in front of the fire to stop it with his shield, leveling his Gunlance with the beast’s head and pulling the trigger, the Yian Kut-Ku’s head reeling back as she sported numerous wounds on it from the gunpowder laced explosion directly. The rest all joined in and Marcus open fired from a distance, loading in some more Normal shots and firing again, until he heard the deeper screech noise; turning barely to see the blue shelled male emerge from the trees, maw open and beak ready to crunch Marcus’ head. He had time to roll to the side, rapidly loading in the Sleep Shots and aiming up, the gun lurching back with each shot directly into the bird’s head, and thankfully it fell quickly, falling asleep and falling in a heap on the ground. With death once again put off, Marcus could refocus on the other bird…and notice it was gone, as was his team.

It must’ve run to another place…predictable.

Sliding his gun onto his back, Marcus followed them through the light path, hearing nothing of combat or fighting as he walked so he was well aware he was too far from the fight to really focus on it.

How far did the damn bird go?

Marcus reached a rocky wall, and finally he could hear faint traces of screeching…and smell the vile pungent stench of brimstone and fire. He reached the nesting grounds for many Wyverns, his team nowhere in sight…but the Yian Kut-Ku was.

And in the nest, were…eggs. Marcus saw the bird hovering protectively around the nest, the Hunter gradually understanding why she fled.

She feared his team would find her nest and destroy the eggs. She wasn’t wrong; due to an order from the Wycademy all Hunters were to terminate any eggs found on the field to prevent more dangerous Wyverns from resurfacing. The bird saw him, and instead of attacking she merely screeched in his direction, continuing to bleed profusely from the wounds inflicted on her. She was terrified of him; afraid that he would kill her eggs and kill her next, to slay her entire family. He was a Hunter yes…but some rules could be ignored. Marcus was about to turn away when he heard a smashing noise; Jeremy landing from a fall and, of course, had imbedded his blade into the bird’s back. A few more slices and she was silent; body going still.

“Whew! Marcus, are you okay? That bird was eyein’ you up like you were a damned Konchu.” The blade wielder pulled his weapon from the deceased monster with a **_shunk_** sound, flicking the blood off it. “But hey, we did it; means the cash from this can be invested into some useful shit when you get back home.” Marcus didn’t even speak up when Jeremy trampled over the eggs; all but one being crunched and crushed. He probably didn’t even notice but the gunner did…something about this made no sense. The others converged on the spot later, Seya being the one to confirm the male was sedated and prepared for transport by the Wycademy when they sent their own airship over.

“It seems this was a mere foothold of a job…anyhow, we should head back; there may be more, possibly even more fulfilling contracts out there.”

“Gotcha, jus’ lemme go make sho the Palico behind the wheel for our ‘wn thang ain’ screwin’ round.” Hector was gone, and soon the others followed. Marcus approached the desecrated nest and knelt down, picking the single egg up and feeling warmth radiate from it.

…this one was alive. His job said to destroy it but…he refused; stuffing the egg into his back and hoping no one noticed. Once he got home he’d get it bundled up well before he…figured out just what the fuck he was doing. He was smuggling back a damned Wyvern egg that could potentially hatch into something even more dangerous.

But denying it life felt crueler than endangering it. All creatures had a right to live…even one that could one day harm him. If the Kut-Ku was born as intended he’d release it into the Everwood when it got of age…at least then he could take comfort that it’d prey on the local Konchus and the Guild would never get wind of it out there; perhaps without Hunter influence, it’d grow without any form of malice nor hatred to humans.

…just like another Wyvern friend of his, one who he planned to visit soon.

 

* * *

 

 

 Marcus cashed in the bounty for the job and nodded to himself; this was a sizable amount of Zenny for a job most could potentially do themselves. The Hunter moved out into the port town of Val Habar; taking in the busy atmosphere of caravans trying to sell their things and move on to the next town. He approached a smithy and, of course, he could tell it was owned by someone on the go…the Popo hooked up to his cart dictated that. Marcus wasn’t there for food and weapons however; he just needed to rent a cart to go on an expedition to the Everwood with.

However, when walking by two people, he heard something pop up that seemed quite…interesting.

“You’ll never sell that damned cart! No one’s gonna wanna live in a cart when houses are better!”

“And I told you someone will! It’s perfect for a Hunter on the go! It’ll be perfect for things and perfect for them!” A cart someone could live in. While it did sound foolish in the case of there being better homes about…it could be just what he needed to stay in the Everwood more!

“I’ll take it.” He spoke up, causing both people to go silent and look at him as if he grew a second head. “I want the cart; I just want to see how big it is and what it can do.”

“C-Certainly sir…please follow me.” Marcus started walking, following the smaller man for a few minutes before finding the cart he was told about near the edge of town and at the bridge between Val Habar and the Great Desert.

It looked much like how a typical caravan cart made of wood would look, but it was larger. Marcus betted that it was about the size of his room, and even then, it went up another story so it was a two-floored home, meant for someone on the go. It was painted a strange blue and green color and the reins at the front of the rectangular sized home meant it needed to be pulled by something.

“As you can see here sir,” The man spoke, clearly ecstatic someone was buying the home. “This thing’s perfect for a Hunter wanting to be right in the action while at the same time want to take a load off. It comes equipped with a full bedroom on the second floor, and the first floor has a mini armory for you to store your weapons, and a neat little desk to do your writing at when about to go somewhere.”

“How does it get places?”

“By a Popo or another big creature; don’t fret, I’ve already arranged for someone to bring a Popo over from the town over to hook up.”

“Why did no one buy this? This thing seems…useful.”

“Most Hunters aren’t too keen being groundside when trying to rest…sometimes a Wyvern attacks and things go south. Wood and metal don’t really stop a Rathalos all too well son.”

“How much for the whole thing?”

“About…seventy hundred Zenny. Once I get the money I’ll need a day or so to prepare it for you and then I’ll have it here and ready.”

“And I can trust you on this?”

“Sir. I’m a respectable trader to the Guild; of course, I’ll keep my word for a sale.” Begrudgingly, Marcus handed over the money and the trader pocketed the small bag of it. “Now I’ll alert you when this home’s ready; as a special bonus, I’ll see to adding a bathing addition to the side so you can bathe easier…as well as an outhouse to the back.” And with that, he was gone, Marcus returning to the Guild Hall to spend his remaining sixty Zenny on a simple job to kill a Great Jaggi; something that’d work to keep him busy and keep the money flow.

And then he picked up commotion, eyes trailing to the door and seeing several younger Hunters fauning over something. Marcus tapped the shopkeeper and when he asked, the aged man merely rubbed his beard.

“The G Ranks are returning; the best of the best are back the hardest jobs in existence. The kind of Wyverns they fight can upset the very balance of the world…just having them here fills these newer Hunters with hope.”

Hope…such a funny word; Marcus liked it but sometimes it made him question his work and wonder was it right in the end. He didn’t let his delusions and worries overcome him; he had a job to do.

“Marcus Finch?” A stout voice spoke up, the young hunter turning to stare up at a man clad entirely in shiny and dangerous armor crafted from Seregios parts…a sick design to Marcus. “You were the hunter to go against the king and queen, right? The one who spent a week lost to the Guild?” He nodded slowly, and the man turned to the crowd, hand lifted.

“Take note of this, fresh hunters; because of this man’s resolve, courage, and determination, he managed to survive for a week in the harsh wilds and brave all sorts of elements to see rescue, even after his Palico perished before him. He’s a symbol that no matter what, there is always a way to survive and beat the odds.” At least that was inspiring; they made it seem like he was some sort of long lost hero. The man beckoned to the table, Marcus seating himself and being glad when a feast was brought over…he didn’t have the money to eat.

“You’re a Gunner it seems,” The man spoke, various other G-Rank hunters seated around the table, conversing and eating. “Coincidence; we need a Gunner after our last one retired early.”

“Retired…early?” That didn’t sound too good, though a wave from the man dissipated these fears.

“Relax, he took a Seregios spike to the leg and after getting it treated he decided to retire before he ended up getting himself killed; he’s perfectly fine and now runs his own business up in Kokoto Village. I think he trains people on how to properly use one of the Heavy Bowguns.”

“You want me to take his place?”

“For a job coming up in a month; the Guild’s asked us to take out a creature that’s beginning to get a bit too close to the native village there and threaten the safety. Reports are scarce but the Wycademy’s called for us to deal with it.”

“Do we know what it looks like?”

“Like a big reptile; they call it the Glavenus; a brute wyvern with a literal blade of a tail. Other reports are scarce on the creature; at best it’s something giant and dangerous.” Marcus didn’t like the sound of that but…G Rank Hunters were asking him for this help, denying could put a dent in his status as a Hunter.

“Trap or kill?”

“The Wycademy wants it alive preferably; they want to study it for a it before they move it further away from the towns and make sure it can’t get close again; as far as we know it may just be on the prowl for prey but its hunt could attract something like a Deviljho.” Even in his inexperience, Marcus knew a Deviljho was no laughing matter. He weighed his options, and nodded, downing another bite of food.

“I’ll work with you guys, once I get some new munitions and items.”

“Glad to hear it, Marcus; I’ll contact you three weeks preluding the mission to let you meet the team. Could be sooner if there’s a problem with the Wycademy and even sooner if the damn thing gets closer.” The man stood up and walked away shortly after, Marcus standing and approaching the door to get to the cart needed to reach the Ancestral Slopes, where he could find the Great Jaggi. He had a lot to think about, and a lot to consider for the future.

But he was eager none the less to see what this new endeavor could beget him.

To Be Continued…     

 


	5. Home away from Home

Marcus stood at the edge of Val Habar, arms crossed while looking over the cart that he’d be living in for a while. His father stood next to him, holding a bag containing some food and other goods. The thing had a younger Popo hooked to it, the tusked beast already eager to leave as the son boarded the seat on the front, his father handing him the bag.

“Son, you sure about this? You’ve only been out a few days from the Everwood and now you wanna go back?”

“I have a big hunt coming up, dad; I can’t exactly just remain unprepared. So, the best way is to go to the Everwood and spend some time camping there before the job to gather resources and perhaps even hunt some of the fauna there to get some additional materials. I’ll be fine dad…I’ll come back this time.”

“Alright, you got everything you need?”

“Even the Charge Blade; I’m set to go.”

“Alright, come home safe Marcus.” The reins were cracked and the Popo started walking, gradually taking Marcus out of the trading town and off towards the Great Desert; the young man travelling for a day and a night as well; fatigue clawing at him but he chose to ignore it. The forest’s boundary came up, and Marcus delved in, the wheels of the cart shifting from dense dirt to the lush grass. He inhaled deeply, the morning rays shimmering down on him and bathing him in a warm sensation coupled with the cool forest air. He reached a clearing next to a river, with a large rocky wall present, and he felt he was in the right place at last, dismounting from the cart and rolling his shoulders.

“Jeez, that took forever…” He muttered, grabbing the bag of food and catching a piece of jerky before it fell, already digging into it and eating.

A yip or two behind him made him turn, seeing a Jaggi there. The Bird Wyvern was, surprisingly, alone, doing what the typical Jaggi would and jabbering at him. Marcus merely shook his head and approached the small creature, watching it tense up and back away in fear; it was acting like a scared dog now; that gave him a clear idea.

He offered the half eaten jerky, watching the little critter look up at it with confusion.

“Go on, eat…you’re not a threat to me and considering you came alone I’m guessing you were hungry.” The Jaggi’s maw snapped down on the preserved meat, downing it and licking its maw. “Good boy.” He could tell it was a male; Jaggia are darker in color than the others. He did notice this Jaggi had some sort of odder coloration along its tail; splashes of crimson with a tinge of green. This little bugger was a rare one.

However, out of nowhere the Jaggi started yipping uncontrollably, Marcus glancing up only for a moment before he saw something explode from the brush, landing with one foot in the river and the other on the land.

A Rathian…the same one from all those weeks ago. Marcus recognized her because he could still see some of Vert’s blood on her left foot; the Flying Wyvern’s teeth bore as she sized up Marcus. He aimed his Khezu Syringe at the creature, already weighing the odds of getting away from her safely and making sure nothing was damaged…but even he knew that was a low chance.

A piercing screech resonated, and golden plated spikes flew out to impact the ground. A golden blur smashed from the trees behind Marcus, the beast landing in front of the Rathian and roaring.

A Seregios…one with emerald eyes.

“Varrick?!” The beast he saw weeks ago was only a few inches larger, but its wing was fully healed, zygodactyl claws ripping at the ground. The Rathian roared in aggression, as if she were trying to force the young Seregios to back down. The beast’s response was to, as to be expected, roar in protect and launch a wave of spikes at her with his tail; the Rathian roaring in pain when they pierced her hide and retreating when they caused her to bleed severely from the injuries. Marcus got the impression she sought a quick meal…but she didn’t intend to fight for it.

His thoughts were dismissed when the beast nudged his side with his head, just like he used to during their time in the Everwood.

“I missed you too bud, and I’ll be here for a long time.”

He heard the beast warble a tad, and he glanced down to the Jaggi, the small critter staying despite there being a much more dangerous Wyvern next to him.

He guessed the food offering gained its trust…who knew Jaggi were so simple to befriend? It might’ve saved him a lot of time in the past had he just parted with some raw meat each time.

“I’m gonna call you Emerald Tail.” He said with confidence to the Jaggi, watching it chirp a bit in response to the name given.

Maybe his time in the Everwood would be a lot more different than he expected…and Marcus couldn’t be happier about that.

 

* * *

 

 

_Day Nine,_

_I’ve been living out here comfortably for about a week now, in the Everwood with some…friends. Through my time spent researching and working I’ve discovered some things I doubt Hunters have ever learned about some of the creatures living here and Wyverns in general. The Seregios I healed during my last visit, Varrick, still remembered me despite me being gone for a week and I suppose my scent must’ve still been known to him, hence why he came for me in my dire time of need with that Rathian. I’ve yet to see that beast again, but I fear she’s still nearby. If and when she comes after me, I’ll just hope Varrick and I can fend her off._

_On another note, I’ve learned to befriend some of the native Bird Wyverns by offering food. Because of this I’m recording these things down and perhaps one day I can give them to the Wycademy…maybe my reports’ll be published. One day…”_

Marcus closed his book, setting the feathered pen down and standing. He made sure the BBQ Spit had some meat on it, cooked and ready to go; the Hunter pushing open the door and stepping outside.

As to be expected, Varrick was next to the door, snoring and resting lazily like he did for the past few days. Marcus decided it’d be best to let the Seregios rest…he had more notes to make and more things to learn. Grabbing a bag of meat along with his Bowgun, he started walking, already hearing the rapid, light footsteps of Emerald Tail rushing behind him. The Jaggi was clingy; whenever Marcus went too far the little critter would rush to keep up with him. Based on his notes, the Jaggi was odds are considering him akin to a Great Jaggi; an alpha and at the same time a father figure. It was weird but it made sense; Marcus just wished it didn’t mean the little one would follow him everywhere.

A few jabbers echoed on his left, Marcus noticing a few Velociprey feeding on a dead Slagoth. He fired a few times and they scattered, as to be expected. He continued his roaming; gathering up mushrooms, plants, and other things while leaving just enough for the plant to continue growing despite the parts taken; the same went for hives and insect colonies. Due to not really wanting to make the long-haul home, Marcus decided the best course of action was to use the materials and resources here to make additional ammo. It was a cost effective and slightly fun method…though he had to be careful when handling Parashrooms and trying to load them into the Huskberries he used for his Khezu Syringe.

He learned the hard way yesterday they can still paralyze him if he weren’t careful.

The return to the home wasn’t hard, though already Marcus could see a few other Bird wyverns around; a Velociprey and a Genprey, snoring next to Varrick. They were, like Emerald Tail, different.

The Velociprey had a brown crest, and the Genprey had purple horns on its head instead of the typical brown ones. Marcus deduced that they were possibly mutations; improper genes giving away to giving them minor alterations. He applied that same logic when dealing with the Deviant Monsters; rare variations that either ranged from nothing severe to the likes of the fabled Dreadking Rathalos…something few hunters ever fought and even fewer survived. None the less, Marcus tapped the Velociprey and woke the creature up.

“Brown Crest, go wake Purple Horn up, alright?” He got uncreative with the names for the two of them; he didn’t really worry about it since no one was around to judge him.

…good thing too; he feared he could risk severe repercussions for…befriending at least four monsters; one of which a feared Wyvern that stronger Hunters had to go after.

Even though Varrick was an adolescent, he was still very dangerous and very powerful to people.

The Velociprey stirred, awakening and snapping at the Genprey, waking him as well. Their jabbering back and forth, of course, woke Varrick up; the beast making a sharp snarl to make them both scatter from him, though the roar held no malice, just annoyance. Marcus only sighed…he still questioned why the Seregios never directly attacked the Bird Wyverns.

Either it was because he saw them as no real threat, or it was because Marcus told him not to and the beast obeys. Shaking his head, Marcus stepped inside of the home and advanced up the stairs, having to duck down to do so before entering the bedroom. It was roughly half the size of his room, and while that was annoying the week and some zenny allowed Marcus to adapt well to it.

He came to see how the egg was doing. Resting in a bundle of covers on the bed was the Yian-Kut Ku egg he recovered, keeping the egg warm to the best of his ability by letting the sun bathe the egg as well as the covers absorb heat to keep the egg at a good temperature. He knew it’d be any day now before the egg hatched; when he first grabbed it the damn thing was barely heavy but now he could literally see something gestating and incubating inside; ready to pop out any day now.

“The Wycademy would love to see this…if they weren’t afraid of Wyverns.” He knew the guild there pursued information and research on various fauna and flora, even the monsters that tormented humanity, but they often wanted newborn Wyverns taken out before they could grow into something capable of killing people.

A Yian-Kut Ku wasn’t that threatening…if anything people saw those as minor when compared to Varrick outside.

**_Crack…_ **

Marcus’ eyes widened…the egg was hatching. Rushing downstairs, and nearly tripping in the process, he grabbed his notebook and returned to the bedroom, watching the egg shake and shiver, the life inside hatching and trying to break through.

“C’mon…you can do it…push…get out of there…life’s waiting for you lil’ guy—“ The egg was shattered, and then Marcus saw just…what hatched.

Why he was worried, that wasn’t an Yian-Kut Ku.

It resembled one _somewhat_ but its body was a deeper violet color, and even as a baby its tail was tipped with sharp, possibly toxic barbs. Tuffs of white hair formed on the back of its head, and its beaked maw already possessed some sharpened teeth despite being hatched literally moments ago, a beast already equipped to hunt and fight at birth. Its small head turned up towards Marcus, and a light chirping noise left it…difference between it and the typical one was this sounded distorted and…haunting. Marcus had to check the books he had on the shelf, soon figuring out just…what hatched from that egg.

“Yian Garuga…” He spoke, realizing he was dealing with a…Sub species of Yian Kut-Ku; Marcus did begin to wonder just how it showed up in the nest when he saw the mother was a Yian Kut-Ku.

Unless…

“Maybe your parent laid your egg in that nest and covered it in something to make the female Kut-Ku raise and nurture the egg, like some sort of secretive pheremone…does mean that once you hatch you’d develop the ability to hunt ASAP to avoid from being killed by her. It’d explain the teeth…” The Garuga made another distorted chirp. “…judging from the knowledge here you might eat raw meat and the same bug diet a normal one eats. Let’s…go handle that.” He started walking, hearing a few strange click sounds. Turning around rewarded him with the sight of the Garuga, following him around despite being clearly capable of walking off on its own to prey on smaller things.

“…weird…” He muttered, stepping outside and of course, hearing the smaller bird follow him. He did make sure Varrick didn’t attack the creature but aside from that the smaller Wyvern didn’t seem to let up on following him.

…he tried not to get attached to the baby.

“Nocturne, stop following me.”

Shit.

 

* * *

 

 

The sun gradually set over the horizon, bathing the Everwood in darkness. Some of the more dangerous Wyverns would be out hunting right about now…tis a shame that meant going outside was a suicidal move. Marcus sat on the stool for the portable spit, munching on some berries and cooked meat. Behind him he heard the ravenous feedings of the Jaggi, Velociprey, and Genprey, while the baby Garuga gnawed on some insects Marcus found earlier…seems Gluehoppers were a sweet food to the beast, and Thunderbugs were a zesty one. Varrick ate his own meal; the Seregios gorging himself on the meat provided from the hunted Slagoths. Marcus took the time to keep writing…so many notes being born from the sight of the beasts eating.

_It seems that in a proper setting some Wyverns and the like can actually form a friendship and even bond when in an environment that has surplus food; it makes sense since Wyverns and animals in general aren’t able to comprehend the concept of greed so when there’s no need to fight, they’ll work together to hunt and live together. Jaggi, Velociprey, and even Genprey fit the criteria and make sense since all three are considered minions to their respective Great Jaggi, Velocidrome and Gendrome…however the Seregios Varrick doesn’t seem hostile towards them. If anything, it’s more like an older sibling towards their younger siblings._

He stopped for a moment, chuckling. “Almost like dogs to an annoyed bigger one-“

Everything stopped in his brain…an idea overwhelmed his mind and filled it with a sense of inspiration while at the same time, danger.

_As I write this now, a thought comes to me…one the Wycademy could disapprove of. What if we domesticated Wyverns? The Bird Wyverns here, these little ones, are young; they don’t have any ill faith towards humans and seem to even like being around me, so with this in mind it could be possible to take a Wyvern’s egg, hatch it, and raise the creature in an environment that guarantees no danger to the baby and thus, like dogs, it’ll develop less hostility and even become friendly. With that in mind it’s quite possible to domesticate and tame some of these creatures if they’re found at birth…maybe they can end up like dogs are now. Perhaps even there’s a way to train them to hunt other wyverns! It’s a genius idea to prevent Hunters from throwing their lives way to fight a single Wyvern, when one can simply train a Rathalos or even a Brachydios to fight something instead with a handler._

So many possibilities and so many ideas came to Marcus, stemming from this idea on domestication and taming. He had a few more days before he had that mission up in the mountains to fight the Glavenus…until then the best idea was to continue and develop his hypothesis and hopefully turn it from a theory into a proven fact that Wyverns can be domesticated.

“We got some work to do guys…I have some ideas…” Marcus spoke to the beasts, knowing it was highly impossible they couldn’t comprehend him but…he still wanted to try.

They were his ticket to opening so many doors and revolutionizing Hunting, forever.

 

* * *

 

 

Marcus reloaded his Khezu Syringe, working to test something out now. He stood in a clearing of the Everwood, gun smoking from firing as a dead Slagoth lay before him. Emerald Tail, Brown Crest and Purple Horn stood nearby, jabbering amongst themselves. He had recently taken the Bird Wyverns out to hunt; while it was a bit impromptu it was the best way to test, and apply his theory of training Wyverns to hunt other Wyverns.  

Marcus saw another Slagoth, and a whistle left him. All at once, the three Bird Wyverns started to run, chasing the herbivore down and soon it fell dead, their teeth and claws digging into it to pull chunks from its hide.

This was what Marcus did for the past few days; he learned that due to their pack mentality, he could train the three small prey creatures to actually hunt together; working to bring down larger prey using combined efforts along with his commands from afar via whistles he learned to make. Marcus did limit the experiment; he had yet to dispatch them to attack a creature actually capable of fighting back and trying to kill them, just Slagoths.

He didn’t want them to accidentally get hurt and to perish; he needed them.

A more warbled call caught his attention; Marcus walking over to some bushes and pulling them apart, crossing through the brush to reach the other side and…well discover a sight.

A deceased Iodrome on the ground, its body twitching from the severe lacerations along its throat. Marcus shook his head to the gristly scene; the poor thing must have crossed something a bit bigger than it earlier, and as to be expected that worked out poorly; could have been a Rathian or even a Zinogre. Next to the Iodrome, Marcus could see an Ioprey there, darting its head about and making another call; the Hunter was able to piece things together and see it was calling for the others…the fight told him that they would never come. He pulled some jerky from his satchel, and when he stepped out he watched the Ioprey snarl, lowering down defensively.

“Easy…” He warned, holding the preserved meat outwards, setting his gun down and approaching slowly, other hand lifted to show he meant the Ioprey no harm…he knew from past hunts with his friends that a wrong move could lead to a rapid use of Antidotes to counteract the debilitating venom the salamander wyverns were iconic for. “I’m not gonna hurtcha…just relax.” He could see the Ioprey gradually easing up and growing lax. Soon, the beast’s head reached out, gnawing on the tip of the jerky and snacking on the food. Marcus released his grip once it ate enough, soon reaching out to stroke the side of the Ioprey’s head, letting the cool damp orange flesh glide along his hand. It was soft, and smooth, and wet at the same time; making sense considering Ioprey were essentially salamanders that ran after people. He could still sense some resistance, but at least now he was in no danger of getting a ball of venom to the face. At this point he realized something was odd about the Ioprey; one of its eyes was a stunning bronze and gold color; a normal Ioprey’s was yellow yes but one of the eyes was a darker octave than it…giving him an idea.  

“Golden Eye.” He spoke, rubbing its head crest. “I’ll call you that from now on, alright?” He was aware that at least seven rules in the Hunter guide were being violated, but at this point he didn’t care.

As far as Marcus saw it, the guild couldn’t see him; can’t punish what they can’t see after all.

He made sure to return Golden Eye and the others to the compound he set up with various things recovered, the young Hunter having salvaged a few things from destroyed caravans.

And of course, when he returned he found Varrick asleep on top of the home.

“Varrick, down boy…wanna test something.” He doubted it was possible but he felt he and the beast bonded enough in the two weeks he had been out in the Everwood to try it. It would be the magnum opus to his report to give to the Wycademy and the ultimate way to prove that Wyverns could indeed be domesticated and tamed for Hunter usage. The Seregios dropped down, and after properly setting his things down Marcus steeled himself…

…and climbed onto Varrick’s back.

All at once the Seregios took off, rolling and flailing in the air while Marcus held on for dear life, cursing and swearing the entire time the reptile hurtled through the air, trees smashing apart as he collided with them.

“Varrick! Stop! Calm the hell down!” The beast continued to panic, Marcus rapidly seeing the idea was a piss poor one when the Seregios broke through the canopy and the harsh sunlight assaulted him; Marcus covering an eye a bit from the blinding light.

This wasn’t good; they were going too high and he knew that it’d be a long way down, one that could lead to his severe injury or worse. His hand rested on Varrick’s head, the Hunter trying to stay calm despite the situation.

“Varrick, I need you to trust me…okay? Trust in me, like you did when I first found you near death; we’re friends…and friends help one another.” His hand pressed down onto the frantic Seregios’ neck, caressing and rubbing it as best he could. “It’s okay. Now please, calm down.”  

And to his surprise, the mad flailing began to stop; soon Varrick came to a stop and hovered in the air, wings flapping every so often to keep himself and Marcus above the canopy and in the air.

…it worked.

…he was the first Hunter ever to ride a Wyvern, and it wasn’t in an attempt to kill it either. But…with the situation diffused Marcus now began to feel the uncomfortable stinging sensation of Varrick’s razor sharp scales digging into his pants.

…he wasn’t bleeding but it damn sure wasn’t something he wanted to bear for a long time.

“Alright Varrick, nice and slow.” He rested his hands on the beast’s back, doing his best to coax him back to the ground. “Just take us home…and try not to make it fast-“

Marcus learned that day the word slow doesn’t register to a Seregios. That, or Varrick wanted to be a dick.

* * *

 

“Ow…ow…ow…” Marcus groaned, soaking in the large tub that rested on the side of the cart. The fire roared in front of him as the creatures gorged themselves, Marcus using the hot water as a means to treat himself…he already used the First-Aid kit but all that did was stop the bleeding; it didn’t stop the aches from Varrick taking a sharp nosedive.

Said Seregios made a low screeching noise, Marcus shooting him a glare.

“No, we’re not doing that again.” He couldn’t understand the beast and he doubted that was what it wanted, but he was a bit…cross with him, speaking lightly. Once the bath concluded Marcus dressed himself in some casual garb of a short-sleeved shirt and shorts, resting on the portable spit and patting Varrick’s head.

“I know you didn’t mean it but…let’s work on that okay? It’s not like we have a saddle or anything—“ He cut himself off, because an idea crept into his mind much like the Wyvern domestication idea.

He had no saddle for Varrick no…but what if he had someone make one? He thought about it for a good while…maybe he could have a smith make a saddle for the Seregios, while thinking it was actually for something harmless like a Slagoth or even a Apceros; dropping hints to make it able to withstand the Seregios at his worst while at the same time making sure the smith was none the wiser to this; blacksmiths might not question it so long as he had the cash to cover it.

But how to get home…?

“Varrick, how sharp are your talons?” He thought about it and while it sounded dumb…it was that or pack his shit and go that way, leaving the compound unguarded.

Being carried by a Seregios’ talons only _sounded_ unappealing on paper…and when it was trying to kill you.

To Be Continued…   


	6. The Hunt

Marcus didn’t like Dundorma for a wide array of reasons.

For one thing, it was where the Hunter’s Guild really met; considering he was breaking at least seven rules with his efforts in the Everwood, he really didn’t like being around other Hunters with the fear that he could accidentally let it slip and blurt things out.

It also didn’t help that to get there he had his Seregios drop him off a few miles away and he had to walk the two hour walk. While grating, it was to make sure Varrick didn’t get discovered by the city watch and have an airship pursue him; finding the compound was one bad thing but the worst thing would be them discovering the Wyverns in his flock.

That’d be a hard conversation…and possibly enough evidence to get him locked up for life.

None the less, the young man stood outside a Smithy, the Blacksmith himself exiting the forge holding the thing Marcus had come back for at least four times preluding this and even did his best to conceal his efforts.

The saddle. It looked like what one would slap onto a horse but made of thick leather made from leathery Zamtrios hide; strong enough to withstand anything. Marcus grasped the saddle and lifted it a bit…light enough not to bother the Seregios but heavy enough to remind him Marcus was on him.

“That’ll be about…six hundred Zenny sir.” Marcus didn’t even flinch when he tossed the man the bag of coins; he knew it’d be a major cost but he didn’t care. He started to walk away from the forge, checking his remaining funds and trying to make sure he had enough to get by just in case things went south and he needed to buy something.

“Hey sir!” The smith shouted to him. “You’re Marcus Fhinch, right? The man to survive the Everwood who’s gonna go hunt the Glavenus?”

“…yeah…?”

“Oh, well someone left something for you; one of the G-Rank Hunters.” He wheeled out a large wooden crate that caught Marcus’ attention; the gunner walking over to it and flipping the lid.

The…armor inside was almost haunting.

It was molded from a Hermitaur yes; he could tell from the design but the entire thing was a chilling color of violet; red lines slithering along the chest and head as if it was blood. He reached down to grasp the helmet and lift it, running his thumb along the sunken in eye-hole.

“…this was made from a Hermitaur?”

“Indeed…a Deviant Daimyo Hermitaur actually. This armor was worn by a G-Rank Hunter, someone who used to face Wyverns alone.”

“…where’d he go?” At the Smith’s shrug Marcus felt a sense of unease.

“He disappeared; the armor was recovered at the base Heaven’s Mount, and it took some time to repair and change it to be used better.” Well _that_ was haunting; the original user was dead give or take.

…still…Marcus accepted the armor, closing the crate and wheeling it along. He tried his best to maintain a low profile the entire way there, but life had a way of ensuring things went wrong.

“Marcus Fhinch, correct?” He turned slowly to see someone there before a crowd; clad in full Rathalos Armor and wielding a greatsword made from the same legendary beast; arms crossed. “You’re the one the G-Ranks said would be helping hunt that damn Glavenus, right?”

“I am, why?”

“I was told to find you; the hunt’s been moved to tomorrow. The Wycademy recently spotted the Glavenus once more and it attacked one of their hunters; crippling one. They’re afraid it’ll inevitably get close enough to Bherna village and ravage it.” That wasn’t good…not good at all.

“I’ll get suited up and I’ll be here tomorrow to go with them.” And with that, Marcus rapidly vacated the massive city; getting himself to the open, rolling field before inhaling, and placing a finger to his mouth; the whistle echoing out being ear-splitting and wide reaching…his friend was en route.

The Seregios crashed down moments later, giving a few huffs and grunts as he greeted his master the same way he always did.

“Good to see ya again, Varrick.” Marcus rubbed the beast’s neck, hearing the Flying Wyvern give a few bird-like chirps to show his praise of the touches, before the man soon lifted the saddle; making sure Varrick was distracted enough before he heaved it up, and let it fall down onto his back, working to clip it on just before the Seregios gave a confused squawk sound.

“Relax; this is so we can ride back together…now,” He placed his foot in the rein, soon lifting himself up with a grunt and soon planting himself on the saddle, reaching down to patting the reptile’s neck. “Now, let’s go up.” Varrick’s wings slowly spread and with one jump the beast was airborne, wings flapping to hover above the ground. As if their minds were aligned, the Seregios’ talons dug into the crate with Marcus’ armor before he started to fly, making a speedy return back to the Everwood so Marcus could prepare for the hunt he was dreading for so long.

But, even now, he was still mesmerized by the beauty of the landscapes he passed by on the way home. Without the terror of being held by Varrick’s claws to reach the city, Marcus had time to actually take in the scenery of the rolling arid sands below, with various Genprey and Hermitaurs walking about, the former hunting with their alpha and the latter finding scraps to feed on from deceased Wyverns and other predators. The wind in his ears and eyes was horrid yes, but even then, he could still see and feel the sense of amazingness from being this high in the air…riding on something that he was taught all his life to fear and despise.

Life had a funny way of showing people new things.

 

* * *

 

 

“Marcus, you’re prepared for the fight?” The same G-Rank Hunter from earlier spoke to him, as the team boarded the Airship set to go to Bherna village to establish contact with the Wycademy and get the Glavenus Situation under control. The survivor was clad from head to toe in the deviant Hermitaur armor; containing both his Charge Blade, and his Bowgun on his back. The Dear Lutemis was as imposing as ever, and the Khezu Syringe was filled with rounds and ready to fire. Even now, Marcus took the time to observe those who he would be fighting alongside in this peril…just in case they didn’t come home.

Aside from the Seregios Hunter, there was a man clad from head to toe in odd, red and blue furred armor; it made him look far larger than he really was, and on his back rested a cudgel of sorts. Marcus’ memory told him the man wore the Gammoth Armor…and if he were a betting man, that meant his Insect Glaive was made from the same legendary beast. He gave off an aura of power; as if he were someone the mountains themselves bowed to, considering he defeated the very beast that haunted them like a malevolent specter.

The second one was a Huntress; clad in armor crafted from the sly, fox-like Wyvern of the Mizutsune that roamed the lands beyond Yukumo Village. She seemed more minx-like, her daggers crafted from the same beast that proved she wasn’t one to directly attack creatures; she preferred to attack from the shadows, and use stealth to her advantage.

The final one wore the vivid, flashy armor of the Astalos itself; even long after its demise the armor continued to glimmer and glow. He contained a Hammer crafted from the electrical Wyvern; almost like an ax, instead of a hammer. He seemed erratic, unhinged rather, as if at any given second he would go off and strike the foe with all his might.

“Marcus,” The Seregios Hunter spoke up, catching his attention as the Airship started up, beginning to gradually rise and take flight. “I should introduce the team: the large man is Brutus, the assassin is Willow, and the…insane man there is Uller; I’m Dirge. This won’t be an easy hunt I admit, but I’m confident we can pull it off.”

“Of course we fuckin’ can, it’s just a damn lizard. Now let’s get the fuck in there and fuck that fucking thing up.” Well, Marcus now realized Uller was vulgar…oh joy. He moved to seat himself in the corner of the Airship, setting his weapons down and exhaling; it’d be a long flight, so he wanted some time to compose his thoughts…to mentally prepare himself for the risk at hand. He didn’t want to die but at the same time, he didn’t want to let the G Ranks down.

It wasn’t because he respected them; it was because he didn’t want to make a mockery of himself as a Hunter. If they saw he was good, then when he published his reports to the Wycademy, they would back him and support him. His vision would be set into motion…and this was the time to build the foundation.

The time to fight for his dream.

 

* * *

 

 

“….cs…Marcus…get up!” His eyes blared open; Marcus’ eyes locking with a pair of sharp, cerulean ones. It took him a moment to realize he was looking at Willow; her mask gone. With it absent, he was able to see her skin was a ghostly pale color, and her face had defined features. Her hair was long and raven black, and her expression was darkened, serious.

“Huh? What? What’s happening?”

“We’re in the Jurassic Frontier; we already reached Bherna and we geared up accordingly for the hunt.” Damnit, he missed the chance to talk to the Wycademy’s leaders.

“Shit…once we’re done here can we go back? I gotta talk to the Wycademy ‘bout something.” Willow’s eyes narrowed, almost if she was reading straight through him.

“…why? Did you have business with them that you’d rather not tell us? Can’t you trust us?” Gradually, Marcus was growing more and more terrified at the risk of her finding the truth out; that tone shift of hers told him she wanted something from him…an admittance of something. He had to get out of there!

“I’m just gonna go-“

**_BAM!_ **

Willow’s gloved hand slammed into the woodwork next to his head, preventing his escape and essentially trapping him in front of her. His helmet concealed his fear and worry, but he was frantically trying to find a solution…a way out. A sudden weight in his lap told the young Hunter that she had planted herself there, further trapping him and preventing him from running.

“Don’t you trust me?” Her normally flat tone was replaced with a sultry, alluring one…this was getting out of hand. Her fingers trailed along his helm; her eyes looking straight through it, almost as if she could see his face beneath it.

“Willow, Marcus; we found it!” Just as soon as she was on him, she was off; the dual bladed girl on her feet and walking to approach Dirge. The two of them started walking, as Marcus took a moment to gather his bearings before shakily standing, his breathing calming down and his heartrate slowing.

“Willow does that to those she doesn’t trust.” He nearly shit himself when Brutus spoke up suddenly, having been seated at a Portable Spit; cooking some Slagoth meat. “She uses her wiles and her body to wrench information from Hunters who have information she wants, or rather what she doesn’t know.”

“Wh-What’s she do with it?” Brutus shrugged in response to that question; the big man standing and shaking the freshly cooked meat before pulling his helm off to eat. His face was aged; skin a deep brown color, as a heavy beard coated his face. The man took a few gnaws on his food, beginning to walk into the jungle that the Glavenus was within somewhere.

“She tortures them, and forces them to do her bidding; there’s a reason Willow modeled herself after the fox wyvern...she’s sly, quick, and above all else, she’s demented...if you value your ideals…you avoid her.” And with that, his helmet was on and he was gone; Marcus too dumbfounded to ever really notice how fast Brutus left.

He began to wonder who was the bigger threat; the Glavenus, or Willow?

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Marcus caught up with the rest of the team, he realized they were engrossed in the battle. A bellowing, ear-splitting roar rocked the air, and the Glavenus came into view; the nigh prehistoric reptile standing before the four hunters, the infamous, bladed tail waving to and fro, as the warning that in a second, the red and black scaled beast would strike. Marcus snapped to focus; his Khezu Syringe was out and he dropped to a knee, taking aim at the beast and open firing. His face fell when he saw the shot were doing literally nothing to harm the Glavenus; the Hunter switching to load in Pierce Shots and taking aim once more…and realized a stunning, haunting realization.

The Glavenus was charging right for him.

“Marcus!” He heard the estranged cry of Dirge…and time slowed down for the young Hunter. The Khezu Syringe was in the harness, and the Dear Lutemis was out. Marcus’ arm swung, a scream leaving him, and the Glavenus’ head rammed into the shield; the Hunter skidding back as a result. His muscle burned from the exertion; Marcus’ eyes focusing on the deep brown orbs of the Glavenus. Fire began to billow in its maw, and he reacted quicker, pulling back and stabbing his sword into the shield before the sword and shield combo shifted to the menacing ax form; the force of the swing being enough to slam it into the Glavenuys’ head and... actually stagger it.

Marcus managed to harm the blade tailed beast.

“Marcus get down!”

He was so caught up in his achievement he didn’t even notice the blunt side of the tail swing; striking his front and sending him flying. He felt bruises already well up when he slammed into a tree, breaking the bark and causing him to skid across the grassy floor. Pain flooded his senses, but the adrenaline flowing through was just enough to keep him going as well; the man shakily standing and staring the Glavenus down. He saw this as more than a Hunt; this thing was what stood between him and his goal to unite Monsters and Humans together.

There was no shirking away. If he wanted to make a dream finally come true, he had to fight, and he had to win.

The Glavenus let out another earth-shaking roar, and Marcus wasted no time; legs propelling him straight for the beast as he leapt towards it. The second his foot reached a grip, he vaulted upwards, soon finding himself above the Glavenus and out of its range of attack. He was so enthralled in the heat of battle, he didn’t even notice he was several meters above the Brute Wyvern, and he was coming down fast. His hands tightened on the handle to his Charge Ax, and he let out a yell the entire way down, gut tightening and muscles contracting.

And then he brought his ax down on its back; blood welling up from the fractured shell. However, Marcus’ landed on the ground and realized a second too late his weapon was…still up there; embedded in the Glavenus’ shoulder, and it was easily clear that the beast was _not_ happy about such an injury. The bladed tail swung towards him, and Marcus’ head turned a second too late…but right before the organic blade made contact, he dodged right, breaking into a mad sprint as he pulled his Bowgun from his back and slapped in the Ice Shots, the young Hunter turning on his heel and open firing at the Glavenus.

“Marcus, use this!” He looked just in time to catch two daggers, both glimmering with electricity. His mind calmed down enough to realize that they not only came from Uller, but they were the Twin Bolts; two more weapons forged from the Astalos. With his weapons now in tow, he rushed for the Glavenus once more, along with the rest of the Hunters. Marcus leapt again, and the same instant happened once more; the young man propelled into the air and arcing his body to spin with fervent haste, slashing with the raw power of lightning. Marcus’s boots touched the ground once more and he skidded away from the Glavenus when he seemed to distort past its tail swing once more; rushing to the side and continuing his running towards the beast, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He prepared to leap once more, to attack…but he couldn’t.

Because the Glavenus knocked everyone away once more, and then it turned to flee; running into the dense forests of the Jurassic Frontier and leaving the area.

“Marcus, after him! If that beast escapes the Wycademy’ll never be able to rest right!” He didn’t even wonder why he was going alone; he just felt his legs carry him towards the brush where the Glavenus escaped and he started to follow it…not just to end the fight and defeat the foe, but for another major reason he didn’t tell the others.

…his Charge Blade was _still_ lodged in its shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Marcus had long since sheathed the Twin Bolts as he kept walking. He had been walking for quite some time, following the dreaded beast through a blood trail it left along the forest floor…one that gave Marcus a chilling feeling. As he kept walking, the smell of the blood gradually started to rise in scent, until at last, he found the Glavenus.

…or rather, several.

The one he fought earlier stood near a crater in the ground, and within it were at least five smaller Glavenus, all nipping and growling at the one looming over the nest. Near it, he saw the severed, removed limb of a Glavenus’ tail, and dried blood; there was another here at some point, but it was gone…and then it all made sense.

Or rather, it crushed him like a sack of bricks.

His eyes shot to the tail blade left in the ground…that belonged to the mother of the nest. She died trying to defend it from someone or something…and the one they fought earlier was the father; he remained in the area to tend to the young, and to raise them no matter what. The babies tore into the corpse of a Kelbi, as the father loomed over them, devoted to protect them even while he himself was in a critical condition.

He was…just like his own dad.

Marcus tugged his helmet off and rubbed at the eyehole…he felt wetness there. It took him a moment to realize he was crying…it honestly hurt him. When the Glavenus saw him, he saw the reptile rear up, teeth clattering against one another, as it prepared to fight him…but the look in its eyes told him it was tired. It was tired of running; tired of fighting.

He knew this would be his end.

“I’m not gonna kill you.” Marcus spoke, removing his Khezu Syringe and tossing it down, as well as the Twin Bolts. “I’m not going to hurt you anymore…” De-arming himself in a situation like this was asking to get set ablaze, but it was the only way to ensure he could be trusted. He approached the Glavenus, hand outstretched, as he kept himself primed in case the beast suddenly decided to lash out.

His fears were so overwhelming, it took him a second to realize his hand was pressed against the Glavenus’ snout. It felt scalding hot, even through his glove, as if he were touching metal straight from the forge, yet it was cool enough to not sear his armor. His hand retracted, and he looked at the beast, his calm eyes meeting its worried ones.

“…I’m gonna help you.” He knew the Glavenus was only here because he didn’t want to abandon the children he and his mate had…but if he could take it with him, then there was no point to stay, right? His ingenuity kicked in; Marcus’ eyes scanned the dense forest clearing for something that could help. The answer came in the form of a cart; the wheels gone and broken yes, but it was sturdy and strong. Marcus approached the aged cart and tugged on the oak brown side; dislodging it from the dense weave of vegetation snaring it and allowing him to drag it over, muscles bulging with effort as he did so.

He wasn’t ignorant to his own pain the entire time either. His own injuries were kicking in…he didn’t have a lot of time left. Marcus set the cart right in front of the nest, and rushed back to the plants that had been holding it down; grabbing fistfuls of them and bringing them over. His hands worked as he walked, and soon he had crafted a few makeshift ropes. He secured them around the cart, and tapped the father’s side; the sign that he needed him to lay down. He sensed some resistance, but the Glavenus complied; resting his head on the ground and Marcus worked to secure the rope to his back before working to lift the cart, despite the agony and stress it put on his body.

And then the cart felt a lot less heavy…almost as if something were helping him. His eyes turned, and he saw the Glavenus’ bladed tip pressed against the underside of the cart; allowing Marcus to lift it with less effort. A grin worked its way onto his face, and he pushed the cart up before he started to secure it…after a roar of pain pierced the woods.

Why? He had to tug the stuck Charge Ax from the Glavenus’ shoulder, but that meant that time was off the essence, because now it was inevitable that the G-Rank Hunters were rushing to the location, to hunt the Glavenus and slaughter it, and the babies. With the cart secured and safe, he worked to grab each infant Glavenus and heave them into the cart; all being about the size and weight of large dogs. None had developed very sharp tail blades, and all had big, wide eyes; not a single holding ill fate towards Marcus despite him being a Hunter…the very thing that would kill many of them when they were adults.

He tried not to think of the future. Soon, all six babies were loaded, and he could hear it in the close distance; the calls of the G-Ranks trying to find him…to see if he found the beast. He shooed a few times; telling the father to go, and wordlessly, the beast complied; lumbering off and trotting through the underbrush and to finally escape the Jurassic Frontier.

“Marcus! Did you find it?!” He turned towards the form of Dirge and the others, his head slowly shaking. “Damnit! It got away…we’re gonna have to comb this entire area another day. I’ll be damned if I let that thing harm another innocent life!” The leader was gone, and the various others started to walk away as well; Marcus moving to collect his fallen weapon and return it to the sword and shield form.

But, labored breathing caught his focus. His head slowly turned, and there, in the bushes, he saw it. One of the baby Glavenus had fallen out the makeshift mobile nest…it was abandoned; the father wouldn’t be able to come back for it, because if he did then the Hunters would finish him and slaughter the other babies…he chose to save most as opposed to sacrificing all. Marcus slowly approached the downed baby and reached for it, hefting it up and looking over the small killer. Unlike the others, there wasn’t much blue on its body; it was replaced with an innocent copper color…this one was just like Varrick. His head drifted over to where the others were heading…they’d no doubt come back for him. Marcus set the baby back in the nest, and covered it with some foliage; not only to conceal it from anything passing by, but to also give it some warmth until he returned.

“Stay here…and I’ll be back for you; I promise.” A few Bird Wyverns were one thing but this was raising a town destroying juggernaut…yet it was the perfect way to test his research and demonstrate his theory and with enough documentation, he could compile enough notes to truly wow the Wycademy. “I’ll protect you, just like your father did before me…”

* * *

 

 

The airship touched down at the edge of the Everwood, the G-Rank Hunters all deciding to remain in Bherna Village following the quest’s failure, with the intent to search the area in the early morning to hope they could catch the Glavenus while it slept. It was late at night; and the air was chilling and damn near freezing for Marcus. The pilot, a Feyline, didn’t ask why Marcus insisted to come back to the forest; he just dropped the solo Hunter off, and was off shortly afterwards, leaving Marcus to make the trek back to his compound in the dead of night. He had to go get Varrick and head back to the Jurassic Frontier; with the edge of night, he could have the Seregios fly at full speed and not brake for a second. Marcus’ feet trudged through the forest and gradually, he began to recognize sights until he reached the fabled compound.

“Varrick,” He voice roused the Seregios from his rest. “C’mon, wake up bud; we gotta go.” The light screech was thankfully not enough to wake the others; Marcus setting his Charge Blade against the house before he re-approached the Flying Wyvern, his foot entering the rein and pushing himself up to settle in the saddle. Not a second was wasted, and the beast zoomed off; Marcus keeping his head down to avoid the whipping and lashing winds at his face. The Airship flight would have taken a few hours…Marcus reached the Jurassic Frontier in less than one.

Touching down, Marcus climbed off the Seregios and approached the nest; pushing away the foliage and hearing the small growls of the baby Glavenus…the sudden nip to his arm told him the reptile was hungry…meant he’d have to wake the pack up to help him hunt for something to eat. Tsking, Marcus cradled the baby against his front as he moved to re-mount Varrick, a light shout being what was needed to tell the Seregios to take flight, albeit at a reduced speed to not harm the Glavenus juvenile.

“…I should name you,” He spoke to the small creature, unsure if it could even understand him. “If I plan to raise you and nurture you, I should name you. How about…Sabric? That work?” The small growl from the Glavenus told him the beast seemed to accept its name; Marcus relaxing for the rest of the flight…it’d be the only form of rest for quite some time; once he got home he’d have to work frantically to keep all the creatures fed and supported. There was no help; if he told even another soul about his discoveries, they could consider him senile, or worse, a traitor to all mankind.

The Bird Wyverns were good means to show his theory was right…but he had to go big and bold to really show the Wycademy that it was a possibility. Hell, perhaps he could train his own flock to hunt the more dangerous, volatile Wyverns like Kecha Wachas or even Rathalos. It’d minimize the risk of casualties to Hunters and it’d mean less would die on Hunts.

He’d bring about a revolution of the best kind, though he was skeptical to see how the story would end for someone like himself.

 

* * *

 

“So, that’s his secret…” Willow mused, standing in a tree, with a spyglass pressed to her eye. Her mask rested on the branch above her, as her hair flowed in the light breeze; the G-Rank Huntress feeling a devious grin work its way across her shell pink lips. “Befriending and raising Wyverns…my oh my little Marcus…how bold. Perhaps I can use this…”

And as quick as she was there, the Huntress was gone in the vast darkness called the night.

To Be Continued…  

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a like and a review if you enjoyed the story; It helps me know what I should fix and it'll allow me to improve and change the story for the better to let it grow properly.
> 
> Update, this story will also be posted on Fanfiction.net so if you see it there, that is the reason why.


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